


Grow Old With Me

by bovaria



Series: Domestic!Dean AU [2]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe- No Supernatural, Angst, Dad!Dean, F/M, Fluff, Older!Dean
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-25
Updated: 2016-01-25
Packaged: 2018-05-16 04:31:37
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 929
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5814280
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bovaria/pseuds/bovaria
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>You grow old with Dean, live your life out with the love of your life.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Grow Old With Me

The kids left, built up their own lives, had their own children. They no longer needed your cooking, no longer needed Dean’s kisses on their foreheads to have a goodnight’s sleep. They left with pecks on your cheek and a promise to always call. “Love you, mom and dad,” they smiled. Dean held your hand, his own eyes tearing up, mirroring your own. You were happy, you had raised them the best you could. Yet you knew that they took a piece of your heart with them. They left emptiness behind. Empty bedrooms, empty chairs, an empty hole in your chest.

You no longer cooked for five. You cooked for only two. You’d get up in the morning, back ache a constant companion, and realize that Dean was making breakfast. You would be about to berate him but then remember, he didn’t need to make more pancakes or fry more bacon, there were no mouths to feed. They were feeding themselves.

For the first time in years, you were alone with your husband. Yet the passionate lovemaking, the fiery looks and frenzied kissing, they were no longer there. A much deeper love settled between you. One that had endured sleepless nights, countless fights, and conflicting feelings. One that had matured and had solidified your certainty in that you had married your soulmate.

The grandchildren came, and along with them a new love was birthed. Dean and you held them close to your heart, spoiled them to bits, and loved them with ferocity. Dean held you close the day you fought your daughter for having scolded your grandson too harshly, you cried into his shoulder for over an hour. But Sunday would come around and they’d leave their grandparents’ house to go back home, leaving you alone once again.

Dean retired once he turned 65, you followed suit a few months later. It was a quiet retirement, filled with the mellow company of your husband. He’d sit on the couch and watch his soap operas, fingers stroking through your hair as you’d lay your head on his lap. But soon, that feeling of not being productive would settle in and you’d get up, find something else to do than just sit next to him and waste your time away. You learned new recipes, Dean suffering the consequences and gaining a few extra pounds.

The days rolled by and Dean finally took you on those dates he had promised when you were in your twenties, the ones you never went on because your children took up all of your time. Europe was the first witness to your love. He took you to the Eiffel Tower and kissed you right beneath it. You had always wanted to go to the very top but Dean and his fear of heights kept your feet on the ground.

Dean kissed your forming wrinkles, smiled widely and showed you that he bore the same marks of old age as you. You’d stroke your fingers through his hair and one day realized that your dirty-blond haired husband was no longer. He was now grey-haired, with liver spots littering his hands and matching your own.

As if to fulfill the old age stereotype, Dean came home from a shopping trip one day with two rocking chairs. “So we can read books outside on the porch together,” he smiled cheekily. You were reminded of the young boy you had fallen in love with on that prom night so many years ago.

And so you spent your days next to him, your favorite book on your lap, rocking back and forth as the wind swept through your grey hair. The kisses you had once shared at a young age, the eagerness to get to know each other physically, it was replaced by laughing until your sides hurt, about sharing stuff you were once too afraid to tell him in fear that he’d leave.

There were fights when your legs would buckle and Dean would rush to help you. You’d shove him away, insist that you could do it on your own. He’d grow frustrated, wanting to help you up. But you looked after his failing heart. The doctor had warned him not to overexert himself and you’d make sure he didn’t.

You’d find yourself praying more often, asking the heavens or whoever heard you that they take you first. Your life without Dean would make no sense and you were selfish. You rather he live without you than you breathe a single moment amidst his absence from this Earth.

He knew before he looked at you that your time was over. His heart had skipped a beat, pain radiating throughout his limbs, and Dean knew. He had been in the bathroom, getting ready for a new day, had left you sleeping peacefully in bed. With misty eyes he walked back into the bedroom, climbed onto the mattress and took your lifeless body in his arms. Before he called anyone else, he’d hold you close one last time.

He breathed his love against your forehead, the warmth in your body slowly ebbing away. He had also prayed to be taken before you, but he knew that your prayers would be heard first. You had always been the purer one, you had always been the light. He closed his eyes and one last time begged to be enabled to meet you in the afterlife. The grim reaper hadn’t left after taking you. Dean sighed out his last breath with you in his arms. Hand in hand, two soulmates entered their heaven together.


End file.
